Saturday Afternoons
by sarha210
Summary: Harry shares one afternoon a week with someone special, someone he shouldn’t. How long can a few hours by the lake last? How long will they be able keep the peace and tranquility? How many Saturday Afternoons?


Saturday Afternoons

The gentle autumn breezes blew in off the lake, bringing with them the stark, almost over powering scent of death. The trees were almost bare, the flowers gone, all that was left were the leaves, the rotting leaves scattered on the ground. He hated this time of year. It had always been very depressing to him. He knew that the trees would be full of life in a few months. The sweet smell of tulips and roses would soon be tickling his nose, but he still couldn't help hating autumn.

He lay on his back, very relaxed, at the shore of the lake. It had become his custom on Saturday afternoons. His eyes shut, arms out stretched. It was really the only tranquil time he had anymore. So he made sure to take advantage of it.

As of late he had company in his peaceful, once weekly retreat. Not the normal company. Not who you'd expect. And you'd never be able to tell during the bustle of the week that they would share the hours on Saturday afternoon with each other. He wasn't really sure why they were able to be civil at this time, why they seemed to forget everything else, but he was glad. It was nice to share the serenity of the lake with someone else.

He used to nap here. At first it was unintentional. The soft wind and the calming sound of the water washing ashore and returning just put him to sleep. He really had no reason to stay awake. So he let himself fall, give in to the exhaustion his busy schedule had for him. He now found it hard to tumble into that light sleep. Now he was not alone. Now he had a reason to stay awake.

"It will snow soon."

"Yes, I know."

"Well what do we do then?"

"I spent Saturdays in the library last year, but it's hardly relaxing."

"I wouldn't think so."

"Too many people."

"Well, what will happen when it snows?"

He hadn't thought about the coming season that much. He was too busy wishing for the wretched smell of decaying undergrowth to pass that he forgot all about the snow that would soon be blanketing the ground.

"I don't know."

The thought that their peaceful afternoons together would soon be over was very unsettling. In fact he had thought about it, and he couldn't think of a worthy substitute for their quiet shore. He didn't want to lose what they had, but he also knew that it was unlikely to be the same anywhere else.

"We'll just have to wait until spring, I guess."

"Yeah"

He cherished his Saturday afternoons now, and the thought of the hiatus made him sick. He now was no longer relaxed. The rolling waters were now ringing in his ears, and the smell of the leaves was most definitely sickening. He tried to imagine the coming spring, and all its new growth, but he couldn't find it anywhere in his mind. It was as if he had no memory of tiny rose buds and baby leaves. Like he knew nothing, except for the decay which lay all around him.

"We could try the north wing, I go there sometimes. It's not like it is here but it's quiet No body ever goes up there."

"I suppose."

"Well, I said we could try it."

"Yeah, I know.

"It would certainly be better than sitting in three feet of snow."

"That it would, but we'd be sitting in three feet of dust."

"Well, you think of some place then."

"I've tried. I can't."

He rolled over onto his side to look at his companion. The blue grey eyes staring back at him reminded him of the spring sky. He felt as though he could lose himself inside of them. Or maybe he wished he could. He reached forward and brushed some loose strands of white-blonde hair out of the boy's face and smiled gently at him.

It wasn't until then, at that very moment, after he cleared his view of Draco's eyes that he knew he could always find peace there. He had the eyes of the spring goddess. They were so soft now, as they glanced lightly back into his own. He no longer felt ill. His tranquility had rushed back to him at such a speed he felt lightheaded.

Harry opened his eyes. The lake was gone. The soothing, repetitiveness of the waves was nowhere to be heard. The great death, however still lingered in the air. He stared up at the sky. It was a few shades deeper then Draco's eyes and plastered with clouds.

He stretched his arms out a bit, before placing them under his head. This truly was the only place he found his comfort now. His weekdays were long and filled with sadness and death, and his nights were spent trying to fall into his usual short, uneasy sleep. He wouldn't call it that though. He never woke up refreshed and rejuvenated. Just awake, really, that's all.

The only rest he got was on Saturday afternoons. And it was enough to get him through the week. This was the one place where he felt truly and utterly at ease. And this was also one of the places where he should not feel this way. But that didn't stop him from coming and recharging with his companion.

"Harry, it will snow soon."

"So?"

"Well, what do we do then? We can't lay here in the snow."

Harry rolled over on to his side and looked into Draco's eyes. Spring was still there; it hadn't left ever since he first saw it there. There was nothing to block his view of his favorite season, as the slivery blonde tresses were long enough to be tied back now.

"We'll go inside."

"Inside?"

"It's not like you father is in there anymore. There is no one to judge you. There will be peace."

"Peace."

Harry reached his hand forward and ran his fingertips over the snake-entwined scull on Draco forearm. He wished it wasn't there, but there were no wishes to be used, no magic lamps, and no genies to come and make it go away. He never really minded it too much, as it never seemed to change anything between them.

The afternoon was drawing to a close and the two of them soon would be back to their normal schedules, their duties, one black, the other white, good and evil. In a few hours they would be back at opposite sides of the spectrum, ultimately fighting each other. But that is how it was now, just as when they shared the lake. The afternoon will end and the smell of death will once again invade their noses. Only this time, unfortunately, it won't be of rotting leaves.

Their peace will be on hiatus, but only for a week.


End file.
